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RP: ISC Phoenix [Interlude 3] - Highly Ambient Domains

The Rigs, Beta Platform, Hangar with a VANDR in it

With a soft sigh, Tamamo pocketed her communicator after silencing the upbeat Y-Pop. Pacing a little she eventually dismissed tring to get hold of John's IH-NoN, communicator, and instead wandered over to him. The message she had intended to send was fairly simple, 'This is more complicated' Shortly after the message would have sent however, she was tugging on his sleeve and spoke to the man softly, "That hardware is organic. We're going to need staff more used to installing cybernetics, or surgery than mechanics for much of this."

While she didn't elaborate on why she knew this, after all while the Nepleslian take her answer at face value she wasn't eager to let people know that she could sniff out the basic composition of a machine, quite literally. Still if they went about trying to handle the hardware the way they did a normal Nepleslian machine, they were likely to have an unpleasant time digging through false flesh and wondering why when they try to detach or alter a limb it was bleeding on them. As much as the integrity of the machine wasn't wholly necessary for her to be satisfied, she had a feeling their visitor might appreciate it if their companion remained in enough of a piece that they could continue to shout empty threats in the future.
 
"You. . . weren't paying attention." Seiren sighed, scrolling back on his diagrams. "This needs magnets of a very specific size."

He switched views. "Simple shapes are all well and good, but the reason they are that shape is for the magnets."

"Too small, like with a twenty-sided shape. . ."

Seiren watched as his simulation burst at the seams.

"Too big, with something like a four sides shape," he sighed, watching as the seams were the only thing that stayed together in the new situation.

"When you're making things, you gotta remember the essential parts. As much I'd love a spike grenade, it wouldn't work with this crazy shit."
 
The Rigs, Beta Platform, Hangar with a VANDR in it
John looked at Tamamo with a raised eyebrow. "Organic? Hum, but why would you bring something that large into a battlefield?" He poked at one of Duk'nukam's limbs, prodding at it a little when he realised Tamamo was not incorrect.

He looked over to Horace, clicking his tongue a little. "I do believe we have a couple of cyberneticists here on station," John replied as Horace was now prodding at Duk'nukam's leg curiously and incongruously in front of Kuzman. "I'll bring them over as quietly as I can to assist. I think Luca's got Aiesu distracted." John nodded to Tamamo, making a hand signal to rally one of the nearby medics to get the cyberneticists down here, quick smart.

Amongst the crowd, he spotted Calico. He had some memory of a woman, mostly cybernetic being amidst the troops. "Hey, think you can chip in?" He asked the ditzy writer. Even secondhand maintenance knowledge could come in handy, even if John was disregarding what she was doing. The best help PSG could come up with in a pinch for such a weird client (who was watching many of the technicians inspect them) were on their way.

Poor Horace meanwhile was still getting his head around the meld between flesh and technology that the Iromakuanhe had. "...guess I see something new every day here." He was told there'd be challenges, and as the first medical staff begun showing up with the mechanics, ... sans Dr. Kalopsia.


The Rigs, Gamma Platform, Laboratory
The two scientists Seiren was with weren't out of their depth in their respective fields. They knew more about Nepleslian grenade techniques and applications. Conventional fragmentation grenades? Their bread and butter. They just weren't quite seeing together because they'd been reading different books and doing different experiments.

"So that's all well and good, what's step two after the thing's assembled?" The Yamataian woman asked while the Nepleslian scraped their clattering dice back into their box, dejected. She waited until he was done to continue. "You clearly have the design, so ..."


The Rigs, Alpha Platform, Top Deck
Melissa took the silence as a sign that whatever was going on probably wasn't worth Enzo's time. She lit up a pair of cigarettes and passed the spare to the conman. "Eh, whatever's going on, I've been head-down-arse-up. I'll be able to pull a sickie in a bit though." The weary sounding Delsaurian thumped Enzo in the ribs with enough force to force a cloud of smoke out of him. "Go see th' 'oliday house, why dun we you and I?"

She rubbed her face with her cigarette between her fingers, shaking her head. "Some time yer free, wotever." She finished off the can of drink Enzo had offered her, crushing it and pocketing it.

Something definitely had her riled up.
 
Once Enzo had finished coughing, he tossed his cigarette down into the water below. It would be a good five minutes before he'd be able to smoke again after such dire trauma. "Look," He coughed at her, "I'mma forgives yous for not noticing my manly shrug. But y'can't just stab a guy like that outside of nuptial arrangements..."

There was a sad sigh, and then Enzo leaned against Melissa like a schoolgirl leaning against her sempai in one of those Yamataian holotoons that everybody loves. "We can go whenever you wants, lady." He cooed, trying on a voice that he liked to call 'soothing Enzo', "I might leer at other girls, accidentally squeeze something every now an' then, but you're number one and what you says goes."
 
Reeves grinned at the thought of another mechanic on board and truth be told it was always great to have pilots around. He would love to talk more about their shared interests, perhaps trading ideas once they knew each other's languages better. Right now any conversation they attempted would be painful and slow for either side involved in the speaking. He hadn't really needed to speak it since becoming part of the Phoenix crew.

[["You're probably right"]] The small Nepleslian agreed with Kuzman, not sure if he could get any of the missing or damaged parts on the large FRAME in front of him. They might be able to build from scratch but that would take time. Maybe downsizing would be appropriate after all? Reeve's face took on an ashen uncomfortable pallor as the sleek weapons slid and formed from the ports in the Iroma's joints. he stared at them with the same level of recognition as he had shown when he had first spoken the other's language. He quickly caught himself and set his jaw into a smile, trying to hide his discomfort. Kuzman wasn't here to hurt him. He just wanted to explain how his loud Frame was constructed. Thankfully Tamamo spoke up and explained to those watching that the blades were actually organic symbiotes. or at least implied that they weren't 'of'' Kuzman's body.
 
The Rigs, Beta Platform, VANDR Hangar

Calico's attention slowly wandered away from her data jockey the more she grasped the actuality of the situation, somewhat aided by the horned man's display of internal cyberware. Suddenly, the connection between him and the large mysterious object was much clearer, and the tall blonde cyborg gave little but a polite nod to the fellow PSC personnel sketching alongside her, before making her way forward at John's request.

"Is there something you need to know, Mister Morris?" She saluted and stood to something resembling attention, but the way the bug-eyed thing also chose to lean down to eye-height still made her appear somewhat less than professional. Calico only knew the man from a brief encounter during the interview phase, but it was enough. "I'm not much of a mechanic, but I could lift some things up for you, I guess, sir..."

Now able to at least compare it to a humanoid-esk anatomy with the knowledge of the apparently-alien man standing beside them, all that really occurred to her was that the massive charred husk looked inside out compared to most cyborgs. In other words, all the meaty bits were on the outside, as far as she could tell.

Still, there was nothing so far that ruled out this 'Kuzman' having an alternate non-humanoid form, with the current one used for lulling them into a false sense of security... It would have been impolite to ask him that directly, of course, but that didn't stop the lumbering mechanical woman from shooting a rather confusing and baleful smile in his direction for a moment. That would have been the most fascinatingly macabre turn of events, and how she would have written out the current situation, given the choice.

Or maybe he wasn't even a real person. Maybe he was a probe of some kind, a meaty avatar for the machine that was damaged and needed the-... No, Calico, you're gonna get fired if you start telling them stuff like that...

"
Did anyone think to ask him what organisation he is part of?" A small glance towards the rather more fey white-haired mechanic boy to her left, the only one who actually seemed to be able to communicate with the alien somewhat. "I mean, they are obviously military... But should we be worried about his own folks knowing we saw... Erm, whatever this thing is?..."
 
"Well that's just the thing, my launcher needs modification to launch this. It was made to launch cans not whatever I called this shape earlier. And that requires a lot of ballistic work I really. . . can't be bothered to figure out now. Especially since most of my original mathwork went into making the transport of the original stuff secure," Seiren sighed, swapping to his launcher schematic in lovely, interactible 3D.

"Ugh, the math here is such a pain. Ballistic trajectory calculations and explosive forensics are not my strong suit."
 
The Rigs, Alpha Platform
Melissa watched the shuttle which had brought her to the rigs vacate, the craft flying towards Beta Platform. "Ah ya bandy rascal, when all you got is me you'll appreciate me out in th' blisterin' sun o' Delsauria." She said, taking another drag on her cigarette, coughing a bit. "Wot I say better go when we 'ead there, er -" Something got her attention, and her usual Delsaurian brand of derision and henpecking petered out. She pointed out a shuttle in PSG's airspace, difficult to spot since the sun wasn't far behind them, blotting them out. "Wait, oo's that comin'?"

Someone had touched down on the shuttlepad. Nobody had shot at them nor was an alert raised, so they were obviously cleared by the flight control tower to sit down. The craft itself looked nondescript and of Nepleslian make, but Melissa noticed that there was an unusual amount of security following the ship, including Nepleslian-made Hostile power armours following the shuttle and touching down on the Rigs' platforms. Must've been a paranoid client with a lot of enemies, a client who liked to put on a show with a sure expression of power, or a very rich one.

The man who stepped out of the shuttle looked like some sort of government official with the slicked red hair, weary eyes hidden by black sunglasses, and half of his neck rebuilt in cybernetics, disappearing under his right jaw. He was wearing a suit and tie as green as the Nepleslian flag, and carrying black briefcase was handcuffed to them. Flanking them were some manner of IPG spooks, heavily armed to react in the advent of a betrayal or reversal. Even with the Service Group as good business partners to Nepleslia, it wasn't worth dropping one's guard for any meeting large or small.

"I have a contract that needs signing for Luca Pavone regarding a contract in the new Nepleslian Colonial Expanse." He said, giving his briefcase a shake as he cut straight to business. "Where is he?" Melissa didn't know, and shrugged at Enzo, staying quiet as she realised her train of thought had been derailed. The man, still not introduced, looked out to Sargasso's waters and at the Nepleslian marine barracks and heaved a sigh.

"He can hide in a thunderstorm, juggle HHGs, assemble armies on a whim, cheat death, and fuck all the bitches all he wants," he monologued, looking around the Rigs, twirling as he admired the view for what a freebooter could throw together when he set his mind to it, "but the Democratic Imperium of Nepleslia, bluntly speaking, needs the hands of 'self-regulating' Mercenary groups with minimal government oversight to deal with some of our problems on the fringe territories of our colonial expanse, capaci?"

The government official's sour tone showed it wasn't the first time similar sorts of groups had let him down when he and his colleagues had done the rounds. Those Sunburnt Warriors guys just up the coast never returned his calls and he gave up on them, while numerous others were just pirate outfits trying to go for a legitimate angle before falling back into old habits - and dying as hard as the habits did. The official let what he said hang in the air and waited for either Melissa or Enzo to chip in, and Melissa couldn't be arsed; She was too tired to deal with official correspondence.

"Oi Enzo, we got us a plot hook." Melissa pointed out, staying by his side. The official appeared dumbfounded.


The Rigs, Beta Platform, Hangar with a VANDR in it
The cyberneticists who'd just witnessed Kuzman's arms sprout long blades had them on edge, a brief scare from a technology that looked so seamless with the alien. Soon, the cyberneticists and engineers started to share notes on how to try and deal with the frame. What they didn't do, however, was bombard Kuzman with probing questions or examination.

Instead, they bombarded Reeves with the questions, possibly trying to get his okay and act as a middleman through these trying times. Who knew that first contact was so talky? A good point was raised by Calico though, and someone begun examining Kuzman's uniform for any sort of insignia. "Huh, surely they don't just hand things like this out where he comes from," Horace said, worried without a frame of reference for the scale and spread of this sort of technology where Kuzman came from. "Definitely looks military..." he muttered, concerned.

And the question of them coming to collect? Echelon didn't seem too pleased by the prospects, given what happened on Asura. If they did come to pick this up, the transaction would be the most vulnerable part of the deal. The only feather in her cap compared to what happened in Asura was that the personnel doing the giving were trustworthy, and they only needed to worry about a third party. She just hoped the receivers weren't soured by a bad first impression. A metal hand fell on Calico's shoulder.

"G00D C0NS1D3R4T10N, S0LD13R," Calico heard Echelon's voice, and a brown, round shape with little brown dots appeared in front of her, eyes focussing as a treat came into view. "Y0U G3T 4 C00K13." The Freespacer's was watching what was going on, and she tossed Tamamo a ration bar. It was her favourite flavour: Spiced Fish. As she approached Reeves with another piece of confectionery in hand, passing it to him. "G3T WH4T W3 C4N 0N L4NGU4G3 4FT3R TH1S CL34RS UP, 1N C4S3 KUZM4N'S BR0TH3RS 1N 4RMS C0M3 T0 C0LL3CT, 'K4Y?"

Meanwhile, John was already considering the logistics of keeping the VANDR here, and keeping it secret from the world at large as he hammered away at a datapad. At the very least, the VANDR could hide in the audacity of the ISC Phoenix. There were always allegations swirling around for aliens unknown and freaks of nature being part and parcel with the Phoenix's internal personnel. He left a message for Kuzman:
Hello,

While we're taking care of your VANDR, you're going to be on foot for some time. I reckon your safest bet is to work with us for a little. We'll provide room, board, food and drink, and pay for your services. As a member of the Phoenix Service Group, and perhaps the ISC Phoenix, you have my promise that nothing untoward will happen to you, or your VANDR, anyone who tries to steal or tamper with your craft will be punished, and you'll have all the safeguards and protections afforded to you as a member.

We'll bring you to speed and outfit you as soon as we can. If you have further queries, come see me on the Alpha platform or talk to Reeves. I'd like to talk more but I just remembered I had a meeting with someone from the Nepleslian Government.
John was already on his bike.


The Rigs, Gamma Platform, Laboratory
Drumming her fingers against her chin, the Yamataian researcher was starting to get a grip of things. "I'd suggest using a low-power mass driver and wrapping your grenade around a discarding sabot which will hold the device stable as it travels through the barrel." The Yamataian researcher nodded as she begun sketching a few things up. "Once we can strike a balance, it'd be easy to design a sabot of four pieces which will come apart as the grenade leaves the barrel."

It was a very conventional solution for irregularly shaped loads, in particular flechettes or certain types of shaped charges with irregular construction, unable to sit properly in a barrel normally. "Plus, this means we don't need to make it a hand grenade so all we need is an electric fuse, so we don't need to worry about disturbing the shape as much making room for handholds," the Nepleslian piped up.

"What about projectile spin fuse?" The woman was writing things on the whiteboard. The ballistics calculations, judging by the statistics Seiren had given them, and it didn't take long for them to eyeball a quarter of the sabot that'd be used for holding the projectile.

"We'll have to stress test that because I don't think this thing likes spinning around much, given how fragile it is." The man said, now examining the basics of Seiren's launcher and getting the numbers, tossing them to her, leaving numbers on the whiteboard, overlaying her rough estimates. "The launcher itself shouldn't need much modification, and we'll just rifle the sabot and test from there."

"I guess we can fire it at a buoy in the ocean, saves on collateral and we get a light show for free..."
 
The Rigs, Beta Platform, Hangar with a VANDR in it

Kuzman ran the message through the very handy dictionary provided by Reeves. He was lucky to meet such welcoming people. He shuddered to think what would have happened otherwise. He'd probably be dead or being dissected....alive. He nodded his thanks to John, but the man had already left. Busy man, Kuzman thought. He was quite interested in the very mechanically inclined Echelon. The only words he really caught were "Kuzman's", "arms", "collect".

He turned to Reeves. [[Is the robot-like person worried about someone coming to collect me? I'm pretty sure they all think I'm dead. Plus, the emergency beacon is broken.]]

Kuzman unmuted Nuk'Dukam, [[Will you be good now? What's your take on the suit idea? I know you won't be a "big baddass VANDR" anymore, but they don't have the technology to repair you in full. So you have two options, become a talking wristwatch with enough computing power to spout out random catchphrases at inopportune times, or become a sick exo-suit that expands and extends to cover my entire body.]]

[[You guys suck! Shit happens. Fine. Exo-suit. I don't want to end up attached to a vegetable as a power source keeping track of your calendar.]]

Kuzman could tell Nuk'Dukam didn't particularly care for the idea, but it was the better of the alternatives. The next question was how to make some of his old weapons usable on such a small scale. There were probably a few that might work, but he figured he'd have to use some alien weapons instead due to lack of ammo.
 
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Reeves did his best to accommodate the questions of the various people assigned to help Kuzman with his Frame. He imagined he might have similar questions and concerns if he hadn't met someone like this stranger before. He leaned in towards Calico when she asked if they had asked what organization they were from. He had seen her around the rigs before, but hadn't really directly interacted with her aside from silently admiring her cybernetics from afar. He had been keeping busy after all. "If I were to guess it would be military, but his home system isn't close, so I doubt that they intended for him to simply appear here in. I've only met one of his kind before... odd fellow. " His lips pressed together thoughtfully.

The small man tucked away his datapad and took the little cookie that Echelon wanted to pass him. He grinned gratefully and gave her a nod. " Sure thing! I'll compile as much information as I can find in my old archives just in case we need them. They're all sort of buried in old directories."

With a shrug and a gesture to Echelon he asked "Echelon? [["Yes, She's worried Nuk'Dukam is .... secret? Classified?"]] and then in Trade he summarized what Kuzman said. "His Emergency beacon is broken, and he thinks that they think he's dead" He snickered at the Saalsari conversation taking place while Nuk'Dukam's speech capabilities were returned to him.
 
The Rigs, Beta Platform, Hangar with a VANDR in it

[[I don't think so. They're standard issue, in fact, Nuk'Dukam isn't all that "fancy" in terms of tech. He likes to think he is though. There's much more advanced versions than he.]]
, Kuzman replied to Reeves. Nuk'Dukam seemed to pout at that last statement.
 
The Rigs, Beta Platform, Hangar with a VANDR in it

Calico paid attention to Reeve's response, through her mouth was now too full of cookie to give a proper response. Large metallic hands went back to making non-sequitur notes on her datajockey almost immediately, almost as if forgoing her thanks towards Echelon to try and look professional, yet failing in that capacity utterly by looking completely absent-minded instead. There were a great deal of inspirational notes to take, through. The strange organic flex of the alien cockpit. The complex coloration of their new compatriot's wrist-blades. The peculiar emphasis on words in their utterly foreign dialect. Did Echelon still have an organic brain, and that's why she carried around sweets, to maintain her glucose levels?...

"...If everything he says is true, it's lucky he ended up here." A deep sigh. Done eating. Reeves probably wasn't going to find any use for the cadet in this situation, but it felt good to interact, and at least make herself available for orders. "Can only imagine what would happen if he landed in cat territory... or squid..."

"Not being pessimistic." Another doeful sigh. "Just food for thought."

"You think we can give him some kind of automatic translator once we have enough vocabulary?..."
 
[["Oh? Well I think he's splendid."]] Reeves Reached forward to inspect a particularly damaged portion of the Frame. He wondered if there were nerve endings and pain receptors in the organic tissue. The mechanics where Kuzman was from might need to act more like doctors or biologists or something. He frowned thoughtfully and nibbled at the cookie echelon had given him. "Some parts of Neplesia aren't a cup of tea either but I think you're right" He lowered his voice. "I imagine any military would like to get their hands on unique tech. I hope he'll be safe here"

The small man pushed the rest of the cookie past his lips and crunched it with his molars. "I think so, There has to be some sort of tech out there for that. The Iroma I knew before Kuzman was a linguist...hopefully the files I nicked from him will be enough for auto translate. "
 
The Rigs, Beta Platform, Hangar with a VANDR in it

Though there was much still going on Tamamo had retreated to a distant corner of the hangar allowing herself to fade into the background as she addressed the important matter of the precious ration bar that she held in her hands. As she chewed thoughtfully on the spice fish flavoured bar, she considered what was beings said and wondered what the others were going to decide on. While not exactly privy to the decision making process Tamamo had already made up her mind on the portion that really mattered. To her at least.

Any component, or information on the vehicle was to find its way into her hands. She had accompanied a wealth of alien knowledge into the hands of the PSG, and she intended to learn as much as she could about it even if it was solely digging through the discarded scraps, though she doubted her prospects would be so poor. With her mind made up and the commitment to live on Beta Platform for the duration of the project decided, Tamamo returned her attention to the bar in her hands and contented herself with the food while sorting through business and communications files as she began finalizing the beginning of her path to freedom.

For now she was happy that the PSG had made a new friend, later she would be happy from the things that she learned, and beyond that the applications of knowledge that these events provided would be a new source of happiness. All in all she was rather content with the turn of events, though she couldn't help but feel something would need addressing soon.
 
The Rigs, Beta Platform, Hangar with a VANDR in it

The blonde golem could only shrug deeply as the situation continued to smolder, never quite reaching the exciting plot climax like the announcement of an immediate alien invasion, or discovering that the alien-man's giant armor was actually a shape shifting colony of sentient worms... They did still count as cryptids, so she could cross that off her bucket list, at least. But without some kind of completely deranged twist to the story, it was rapidly beginning to feel like all Calico could really do was spitball ideas. She was no engineer. Not exactly a great recipe for gaining respect.

Best she could do was just scrunch up her mouth, fix her glasses again, and give the horned man a look like a dog that had just wandered in the back door.

"...I wonder what he eats..." Practical questions. Any brute could handle stuff like that. "...Erm, sorry, Reeves, wasn't it? I'm new here. My name is Calico Monoceros. Infantry."

"Kuz-man!" A sudden change in tone, smiling with hands on hips, as if to attempt communicating in pure body language. The name was overheard from Echelon. "You landed in the right place! Things are good here! Very welcome!"

Patronizing? Possibly. Ineffective, considering this show of warmth was coming from a towering durandium melee fighter? Almost definitely. But a positive gesture none the less.
 
Kuzman had no idea why this person seemed so flustered but he figured it was something about how he himself looked funny compared to everyone else in the room. "Thank. You," he repsonded.
 
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